Disjointed Soul
by IcyPanther
Summary: Lance falls victim to a dark spirit that wants to steal his soul. The Paladins must go into Lance's soul to save him, uncovering truths about them all in the process. Time is of the essence before Lance is lost forever. Good thing they have such helpful soul guides. / "I think he's saying "hola,'" Hunk grinned. "You know, "hi" in Spanish. Hola, baby Lance," he greeted. "¡Ohwah!"


**Timeline Notes:** Set during Season Two

 **Warning Notes:** None

 **xxx**

 **Disjointed Soul**

 **xxx**

"You want us to _what_?" Pidge's voice came out a bit of a squeak on the last word as she stared incredulously at the mystic, who despite her hunched back and clear age emanated a quiet power and knowing that was more than a bit unnerving.

"Go into Paladin Lance's soul," the mystic repeated, all three eyes focused entirely on the still figure on the ground and her webbed hands spread and emitting a white light to counter the black one that was spreading out from Lance's chest. "There is no time to balk, Paladin Pidge. If you do not hurry he will be lost." One eye roved up to meet the young girl's gaze. "And losing oneself to the Soul Leecher is a fate worse than death."

Pidge gulped.

"We'll do it," Shiro said, voice strong despite his own fear as he gazed down at Lance, limp and lifeless. "How do we go in?"

Voltron had stopped on this swamp-like planet for a day of training as Coran said it would be good to train in many different environments. They'd spent the better part of the day in both the Lions and in Voltron and when Shiro had called an end to practice he'd immediately been assaulted by clamors from Lance and Pidge to actually go outside the Lions and check out the planet. Shiro had allowed it, figuring they all needed to stretch their legs.

They'd all disembarked from their Lions to take a look at the planet that resembled the Everglades, if the Everglades were yellow instead of green. Shiro had cautioned them all to be careful, but upon the air testing positive for breathability and the swamp mud non-toxic, the three youngest Paladins had removed their helmets with gusto and had proceeded some sort of mud-throwing game.

Keith had stood by Shiro, arms crossed, and refusing to participate despite Shiro quietly urging him to do so. It wasn't until a wayward mud glob (and Shiro highly doubted Lance's claims of he was aiming for Hunk as he had impeccable aim) came their way and collided solidly with Keith's chest and then another promptly at Shiro's still helmeted head, that they both joined in the fun.

It was a disgustingly dirty but fun affair and Shiro was just beginning to relax, figuring they'd just decontaminate when back at the castle, when Lance's playful shouting had cut off with a gasp of pain. Shiro had barely managed to look in his direction when Lance had collapsed bonelessly to the ground without any warning.

Not even a minute later an alien, the later identified mystic, had appeared from within the swamp, shouted out Lance's name – how she knew it, Shiro had no idea – and had immediately knelt next to him, pushing Hunk away with a strength her figure belied.

She had explained very quickly that she had been tracking a Soul Leecher, a dark spirit that was created when one of her kind darkened their own soul by committing an act of murder. This one was particularly powerful as its creator had killed seven, her gaze had darkened, before he had been brought to justice. It had escaped their wards and she had been tracking it for the past day, nearly closing in, when both it and she had sensed unprotected souls nearby.

A Soul Leecher could attach itself to another soul and take over it, turning it as dark as its original host, in its last bid for freedom. If that happened the only option to stop it was to purge the new body, which would destroy its own original soul and force it it wander, lost for eternity. A fate worse than death, the mystic had said grimly.

The Soul Leecher had affixed itself to Lance, the mystic explained, but he could still be saved. Those connected to him, the Paladins in this circumstance, would need to venture into his very soul and destroy the Soul Leecher.

Hunk had tentatively asked why Lance, holding one of Lance's mud-encrusted hands in his own and near tears, and the mystic had smiled sadly. Soul Leechers were drawn to troubled souls, she said, and she too sensed a disconnect in his spirit. But, and her expression had brightened, she had faith that the Paladins of Voltron would be able to set things right, more than right. If they made it in time.

"Place your hands here, on his chest," the mystic ordered to Shiro's question, and four dirt-encrusted gloved hands lowered themselves onto Lance's chestplate.

"How do we destroy it?" Keith asked, other hand clutching his bayard. "The Soul Leecher?"

"Each one is different," the mystic said unhelpfully, lifting one of her hands and placing it so it rested atop a portion of each human's and the white glow transferred to them. Hunk gasped aloud as it traveled up their arms.

"Keep an open mind, Paladins of Voltron," the mystic explained, the white light climbing higher and higher and shrouding them all. "Be brave. Be strong. But most of all…" The glow had nearly encompassed them all now safe for their eyes, showing a mixture of fear and determination around the circle.

"Be kind."

And with a flash of light the world disappeared.

xxx

"It's very… white," Pidge commented as she accepted Hunk's hand to pull her to her feet. "This is Lance's soul?"

They had been in the swamp one second and in this endless white space the next. There was no floor, ceiling or walls but yet they were all somehow standing on the same plane. Pidge stomped her foot down but there was no noise.

She noticed she was also back in her casual clothes, as were the others, and the mud was gone.

Interesting.

But even more noticeable was the fact that there was no Lance. Just blinding whiteness and no direction on what they were supposed to do to find him or the Soul Leecher. Her fists clenched at her side at the thought of Lance all alone in this giant nothingness.

They had to find him.

"Lance?" Hunk called out, spinning in a circle. "Lance?" His stomach was in knots and he was trying very hard not to puke in Lance's soul. It just seemed wrong to do so.

Then again, the fact that the mystic had said Lance's soul was troubled too was also wrong. Hunk worried his hands together, wondering what that meant. He knew Lance was homesick, more so than the rest of them, and he'd seen his best friend a little more… quiet, of late, but when Hunk had asked Lance had insisted everything was fine. Hunk knew it likely wasn't but hadn't pushed. And Lance had been more cheerful the past day again and his playful self with the mudball fight and Hunk had thought things were back to normal.

Clearly things weren't quite as good as he'd thought, not if a dark spirit was latching onto his friend.

"Stay together," Shiro ordered, unease pricking the back of his neck. "We don't want to get separated here."

"Where are we supposed to go?" Keith asked, trying not to show how unsettled the landscape was making him. It felt too… sterile. Oppressive. He wished he had his bayard but, his hand lighted on his belt, at least he still had his knife turned sword. How they were supposed to destroy a monster though when only he and Shiro were armed though was a question he tried not to dwell on yet.

"Pick a direction?" Pidge suggested. "Eventually something should—"

A loud wail cut her off and as one they all turned their heads to the left where the sound was coming from.

"Was that a baby?" Hunk gasped.

The cry came again, long and terrified, and there was the faintest flicker of black on the all white background.

The Soul Leecher.

"Go!" Shiro shouted although everyone was already moving. His prosthetic sparked to life and Keith pulled his blade, elongating it to a sword in an instant while Pidge and Hunk, despite having no weapons, were leading the charge, Hunk looking a mixture of panicked and determined.

They were upon the scene in a matter of seconds, the blackness a gaping shadow that _pulsed_ with sheer raw evil and brought them to a stumbling halt.

Beneath the blackness though was a tiny figure, whose cries were mere whimpers now, huddled beneath a familiar looking jacket.

"Lance!" screamed Hunk and without further delay he charged at the shadow, fists raised.

Shiro beat him, lashing out with his glowing arm.

It and Shiro passed right through.

Shiro whirled around, obscured but visible on the other side of the shadow, clearly surprised. The shadow reared up and shot down, abandoning the baby and channeling straight at Hunk. He yelped but swung out a fist, shocking them all when it connected with a dull thump and the shadow veered back.

Keith dashed into the opening, making to scoop up the crying child, but just like Shiro against the Soul Leecher his hands passed right through the figure.

"I can't pick him up!" he shouted, eyes wide. A tick later he was sent flying as the shadow collided with him and sent him crashing into Shiro. Pidge darted underneath the shadow, which Hunk had taken another swing at and pushed it back, but ran into the same problem, the baby intangible to her too.

"Hunk!" Shiro yelled, striking again at the blackness without any luck, although it struck at Shiro and he barely managed to deflect its strike against his arm. "Grab him!"

Because the Yellow Paladin seemed to be the only one capable of interacting with the Soul Leecher on his own terms and it seemed that he might be the only one who could actually touch the child.

Hunk didn't need told twice.

He landed another hit to the Soul Leecher and then ducked down, large hands reaching for the small child covered up by Lance's green jacket.

In one swoop he successfully picked up the baby and jacket and cuddled them to his chest, large arms hiding them from view of the Soul Leecher.

"Leave him alone!" he screamed, hunching over the precious bundle as the shadow loomed large.

The Soul Leecher _shrieked_ at his words, recoiling as though struck. The sound was ear-splitting and the other Paladins thrust their hands up over their ears. Hunk gritted his teeth and tried to protect the child, who was crying again.

It let out one last shriek and then shot across the expanse, leaving a gray smoky patch behind.

Silence save for the baby's cries echoed in the chamber.

"Hey, hey, it's all right," Hunk murmured, shifting the bundle in his arms and pulling the jacket back, revealing a tanned, scrunched up face wet with tears and mused dark hair. "You're okay now, shhh."

The baby continued to cry as the others gathered around.

"Is that Lance?" Pidge asked, incredulously, staring at the baby who looked to be maybe two, if she had to guess. A toddler although in Hunk's arms he looked so small still. "How…?"

Keith meanwhile looked rather freaked out, just as Pidge felt inside, at the sight of a crying baby who was apparently their teammate. She didn't do babies and apparently neither did Keith. A side glance at Shiro showed their normally unflappable leader hovering as well and looking unsure of what to do.

The only person who seemed to have a handle on things was Hunk, whose expression was so soft that Pidge felt her own insides turning to mush as he looked down at the whimpering baby and rocked him.

"Lance, shh, _estás bien, estás bien…"_

And as if a switch had been flipped the whimpers stopped and bright blue eyes peeked open.

"Aww, aren't you cute?" Hunk cooed and the baby babbled at the attention, a smile widening on his face. A pudgy fist freed itself from the confines of his jacket, revealing little blue-footed pajamas, and latched onto one of Hunk's fingers with a giggle. Hunk shifted to more comfortably hold him in the crook of one arm against his hip.

"That's Lance all right," Shiro chuckled and around him the tension started to slip away as the baby laughed again, all fears from earlier apparently forgotten.

"Hi there baby Lance," Hunk greeted.

" _Ohwah,"_ Lance burbled back. _"¡Ohwah!"_

"Ohwah?" Pidge repeated.

"I think he's saying " _hola,'_ " Hunk grinned. "You know, "hello" in Spanish. _Hola,_ baby Lance."

"¡ _Ohwah! ¡Ohwah!"_

Pidge was glad she was not the only one sporting a dopey grin because Shiro was looking like a smitten parent and Keith's eyes had softened with a small smile. She may not really care for babies but she could not deny that Lance made a pretty damn cute one. She bit her lip to contain the unnatural squeal building in her throat as Lance let out another little laugh.

"Hey there little guy," Shiro leaned forward, going to press his own hand to the dark locks nestled against Hunk's arm.

His hand went right through.

With a sharp inhalation he brought it back to himself, eyes wide. Lance seemed to take notice of it whatsoever, eyes only for Hunk.

"I don't think he can see us," Pidge said slowly, moving into Lance's line of sight but he didn't so much as blink at her. "It's like we're invisible to him."

"What are we doing here then?" Keith asked, arms crossed back over his chest. "If only Hunk can interact with Lance's… soul. Which is apparently a baby."

"We're all here for a reason," Shiro said firmly. "Maybe…" he glanced over his shoulder at the gray trail that had remained. "Maybe it's just not our turn yet."

"Our turn for what?" Keith asked, following his gaze. Shiro just shrugged. He was as lost as the rest of them.

Lost.

That's right. Lance was supposed to be lost here. This entire place was his soul and this little version of him was a part of it. He was there for a reason, Shiro was certain of that, just as they all were. Maybe the baby was a guide? A soul guide to help them find Lance? It made as much sense as the rest of this.

"Hunk, can you try and ask baby Lance about Lance?" Shiro asked quickly. "I think he might be like a soul guide to help us find our Lance."

Understanding dawned around the group even though Keith muttered, fondly, below his breath that Shiro watched too much anime. He got a gentle elbow to his side for that but Shiro did not deny it.

"Hey, baby Lance, ummm," Hunk wracked his brain for the right words. He knew a decent amount of Spanish from having spent a good chunk of his own childhood in Lance's home, but he was much better at translating than speaking it. "Uh… _Estamos buscando Lance."_

Baby Lance's seemed to wilt in Hunk's arms. " _Wance… Wance pewdeedo,"_ he murmured. His lip trembled. "Wance…"

"Lost," Hunk translated both the Spanish and the baby speak, even as he made cooing noises and tried to comfort him. " _Lance está perdido, ¿sí?"_

" _Sí,"_ came the hiccupped response. "Wance…"

"¿ _Dónde está_ Lance?" Hunk asked gently.

Baby Lance released his hand from Hunk's finger and shifted it to point at the gray patch of smoke left behind. _"Ayee."_

"There, huh?" Hunk repeated. He looked up at the gathered worried faces. "I think we have to go into that."

"What the Soul Leecher left behind?" Pidge frowned.

"Let's do it," Shiro nodded. "And we should hurry. The mystic said we didn't have much time. Hunk, you got him?"

"Yeah, we're good," Hunk smoothed a hand down Lance's tiny shoulders, securing the familiar jacket now blanket. "You ready, baby Lance? _¿Estás listo?"_

A little nod and Hunk nodded. "Let's go."

A moment later they were stepping through the smoke…

And appeared in a small suburb town with desert landscaping.

"Uh, where are we?" Pidge asked but Hunk next to her inhaled sharply. A second later they saw why. Sitting below a tree was a small version of Hunk, maybe seven years old, with a large book on his lap. As they watched he stood up, dusted off his pants, and turned away from them.

"This is…" Hunk breathed.

A moment later the scene was moving, quickly, as though they were running and a voice was chirping from out of nowhere. " _Hola_!" The child Hunk's whirled around up, eyes wide. " _¿Cómo estás?"_ the voice continued. " _Me llamo Lance!"_ There was the sensation of peering forward and their view focused on the book before back onto Hunk. _"¿Qué estás leyendo? Ese libro es muy grande!"_

"This is when we first met," Hunk whispered, staring at the scene and knowing exactly how it went. Lance would ask him to play with him as despite not understanding each other's languages both had intrinsically understood one another. And Hunk would gain his first real friend. His best friend. He glanced down at the child, whose eyes were closed and resting his head comfortably against Hunk's chest. "Lance, why are you showing us this?"

As if waiting for the question there was a sudden feeling, a warmth that seemed to blanket all of them. _Friend_ it whispered. _Happy._ Baby Lance let out a contented sigh.

The scene flickered then, dropping them into the Garrison, then the castle's kitchen and then at one of their most recent fights and showing Hunk helping a little alien child out of a pocket of rubble. With each instance that focused on seeing Hunk through Lance's eyes a feeling seemed to permeate the air, physical in its intensity and warmth _Proud. Strength. Warmth. Love. Brother._

Hunk felt floored by the feelings, tears springing to his eyes. "Oh, Lance," he murmured. This was how Lance saw him, he could feel that. It was overwhelming in the best way.

"Wow," Pidge murmured. "He really thinks the world of you, Hunk."

Keith shifted uncomfortably. "I… I don't think _we_ should be here," he said, jerking his head at himself and the other two. "This is… _personal."_

"I don't think we have much of a choice," Shiro said, placing a steady hand on Keith's shoulder. He looked at Hunk. "Are you all right with this?"

"Yeah," Hunk said, running his hand up and down Lance's back. "I mean, yeah, it is sort of personal but—"

 _Annoying._

The word seemed to echo about the space and the heartwarming scene behind them flickered to a panel of black.

The shadow.

"What?" Hunk gasped and in his arms Lance whimpered in distress.

 _Clingy._

"What is this?" Pidge looked sick, hands pressing on her stomach.

 _My fault._

And that time the words had an inflection, a voice.

"Lance?" Hunk choked out. "Lance?"

The baby began to cry.

 _He's sick of me. He hates me. I did this. I brought him here. He didn't want this. He didn't want to go to space. He hates me._

These words were cold instead of warm but still, they felt the truth. The belief.

It was _terrifying._

"Lance, no," Hunk's voice was thick with tears. "No. This isn't _true."_

 _Holding him back. Should back off. Not be so clingy. Burden._

"No!" Hunk all but shouted. "No! Lance do you hear me? None of this is true! _¡No es verdad! ¡Escúchame! ¡Por favor!"_

 _He'll get sick of me. He'll hate me. He should._

 _"_ You're my brother, Lance," Hunk cried. " _Eres mi hermano._ Please. Stop this!"

And just like that the worst of the oppressive words disappeared, the black shifting to gray. Pidge collapsed on the floor and Hunk's own legs gave out, only barely managing to collapse on his rump without dropping the baby.

"What the fuck?" Pidge gasped and Shiro was too shaken to even try and correct her, only remaining on own feet by sheer force of will and beneath his hand Keith was trembling.

"Shh," Hunk murmured to the baby form of Lance, who had fisted one hand in Hunk's vest and was still whimpering. "Shhh, it's all right. I've got you." He bent his head down and pressed a soft kiss to the dark head. " _Te quiero, hermano."_

Lance looked up at him then, blue eyes bright and somehow looking so much more knowing than a toddler's should. A smile split the baby's face and he let out a little light laugh.

There was a warm ripple then and as if blown away the gray behind them disappeared.

As did the baby.

"Lance!" Hunk gasped, looking frantically about him as though but there was no child to be found. Just blinding whiteness again and three other very concerned Paladins.

Hunk felt his lip tremble as understanding settled in. The mystic had said Lance's spirit felt troubled. Disjointed.

This was why.

Part of Lance felt the way those dark words had projected, believing that Hunk saw him as a burden. As clingy. Despite his sheer love and admiration for Hunk a part of him couldn't believe that Hunk felt the same about him.

Disjointed.

It all made sense.

"Does… does Lance really think that?" Keith asked quietly, a shadow over his face.

"Apparently so," Shiro's expression was grim. He didn't need to say out loud what they were all thinking. If Lance had such negative feelings of himself associated with Hunk, his best friend, then what sort of darkness lurked for them?

"What now?" Pidge asked, wrapping her arms about herself and letting out a tiny sigh as Hunk came over and wrapped her up in his arms instead. "Do… do we all have to go through that?"

She didn't want to. She was scared to find out what Lance apparently thought she thought of him. She closed her eyes, feeling tears stinging.

How much had she hurt him?

"Be brave," Shiro murmured, recalling the mystic's words. "Be strong. And most of all, be kind." He looked around the group, meeting each pair of eyes. "This isn't over yet. I think we need to prepare that _all_ of us are going to experience what Hunk just did. Is everyone ready?"

"No," Pidge muttered and Keith gave an uncomfortable looking shrug.

Shiro managed a wry grin. "Neither am I. But we _will_ save Lance and we will show him how important he is to _all_ of us. And if this is what we need to do," he straightened, "then we're going to do it."

Pidge and Keith straightened too at that, a familiar look of determination crossing both of their faces. Shiro nodded. Better.

Just in time too as there was a crackle of black shadow off to the side and a frightened cry, although not the wail of a baby.

" _¡Ayuda!"_ a voice screamed, sounding young. _"¡Ayuda! ¡Por favor!"_

The scene they ran to was different from the last. This time there was a young Lance, maybe seven or eight and wearing his jacket although it dwarfed his small frame, scrambling backwards as a shadow wrapped around his leg and was yanking him towards is maw.

Terrified tears were streaming down his cheeks as his hands grappled at the blackness without success. With a shriek the Soul Leecher gave a yank and he was pulled onto his back, head hitting the ground with a sickening thunk, although he continued to scream.

His head tilted back and blue eyes locked on Pidge's honey brown.

And she knew in that instant that this was going to be her battle.

Well, fuck.

There was no time though to think on how to fight the Soul Leecher as this small version of Lance was in real danger. They had no idea what would happen if their so dubbed "spirit guide" was sucked in by the Soul Leecher. She doubted it was good.

Shiro hadn't gotten the memo that this one was hers as he charge forward with a shout, hand glowing and like last time passing harmlessly through the shadow. He cursed, loudly, and despite the circumstances Pidge grinned. Takes one to know one.

Keith had just as little success at slicing through the Soul Leecher. Pidge didn't even try. She instead dived for the kid, wrapping her hands about his and pulled like a game of tug-of-war, not at all surprised when she didn't phase through him. He gasped at her hold but his hands, smaller than her own, latched on tightly.

"Let him go!" she shouted at the Soul Leecher, tugging so hard she lifted Lance off the ground.

It pulled back harder and she grit her teeth, digging her feet in. But as hard as she tried she could feel her grip slipping.

"No!" Lance shrieked, twisting in her grasp. " _Por favor! Ayuda!"_

Strong arms wrapped about Pidge's waist then and she nearly choked on her next breath. Hunk. She was vaguely aware of Shiro and Keith joining the chain and all four of them pulled back with all of their strength.

"I said let him go!" she yelled, feeling the shadow try to renew its grip. "Fuck off!"

And with one last heave the Soul Leecher released him, vanishing into another block of gray, while they all fell backward with yelps as momentum and gravity took them down.

Pidge had a relatively soft landing all things considered against Hunk. She'd barely sat up when a pair of small arms were throwing themselves about her and Lance was clutching her like she would disappear. She could feel his small body trembling inside the large jacket and she brought her own arms about his kneeling form, pulling him in close.

"There, there," she tried to comfort, patting his back. "It's all right. Er, _estás_ bean?"

" _Bien,"_ Hunk wheezed from behind her.

" _Bien,"_ Pidge repeated. " _Estás bien,_ Lance."

She continued to murmur the phrase and eventually the shudders ceased. She carefully lifted her arms and Lance did the same, sitting back. His eyes were still bright with tears but he offered her a genuine smile, one tooth missing and adding a charm to his grin and she found herself smiling back.

" _Gracias,"_ he said. " _Muchas gracias."_

"Er, donut _nada?"_

" _De nada,"_ Hunk corrected, getting to his feet. Pidge remained seated, Lance still kneeling between her outstretched legs.

" _De nada,"_ she echoed.

Lance grinned wider and laughed. It was contagious and Pidge giggled too, surprising herself by how delighted she was to see this tiny version of her friend laughing so freely. It's not that she hadn't heard Lance before, but this wasn't at a joke or in self-depreciation. It was just a laugh. She had a sudden pang that she'd never really heard Lance like this before.

" _Eres muy bonita,"_ Lance told her once he got his joy controlled beneath a smile.

Pidge raised an eyebrow. "Bone etah _?"_ she sounded it out. She turned to look at Hunk who was chuckling. "Did he just call me a bone?"

"No, no," the larger boy continued to grin. "He called you pretty."

Pidge was alarmed by how she felt her face color. She turned her attention back to the smiling boy. " _Eres muy bonita,"_ she parroted back at him, ignoring Hunk's correction of, "that'd be _bonito."_

Lance's grin widened and he practically preened although a light dusting of pink dusted across his tanned cheeks.

A moment later though his expression fell to something more serious. "Lance _necesita ayuda. El está perdido."_

"Lance needs help. He's lost," Hunk translated.

"I know," Pidge said softly and despite no translation Lance seemed to understand as relief crossed his face.

" _Por favor. ¿Puedes ayudarle?"_ Lance asked.

"Please, can you help him?" Hunk clarified.

" _Sí_ ," Pidge said and Lance smiled at her. "Can you take me to him?" She held out her hand and Lance grasped it eagerly, scrambling to his feet. He then attempted to pull her up but despite her small stature she was still large next to him. She helped him out and he didn't seem upset by the lack of success on his end, merely pulling at their conjoined hands towards the gray expanse.

Pidge balked. If she went in there then… then…

"Pidge," Shiro said quietly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Lance needs us. He needs _you."_

"I know," she nodded. "I know." And taking a deep breath and squaring her shoulders she let Lance pull her through.

They emerged into the Garrison cafeteria where Pidge was sitting slumped at one of the tables, a tablet propped up against a glass of milk and a half-eaten salad in front of her.

This time the viewpoint was from higher up but it was moving just as quickly. The Garrison Pidge looked up with a squawk as their perspective, Lance, slid onto the bench next to her.

"Lance!" Pidge protested. "Be caref-"

The memory Pidge broke off as a small box was thrust into her face.

"What is this?" she asked, suspicion clear and Lance laughed. "Come on, Pidge. Open it. I promise it won't bite. Although you'll probably want to bite them." He must have made some expression because Pidge made a disgusted face back at him.

Still, she put the box on the table and lifted the lid, leaning back slightly as though expecting some prank.

Nestled inside though were a batch of freshly baked peanut butter cookies.

"You seemed a little down," Lance told her quietly. "And thanks to a certain nosy friend of mine and a certain diary of yours" - "Hunk read my _what?" - "_ I know these are your favorite. So, enjoy."

Pidge turned to him, eyes soft despite her outburst. "How did you get these?"

"Offered to help the cooks clean up the kitchen for a couple days in exchange. I mean, these aren't as great as the ones Hunk could make but-"

"Thank you," Pidge interrupted, voice brusque. She coughed and then more gently said, "Thank you. I… that's very kind of you, Lance."

A tanned hand reached out and ruffled Pidge's hair, sending her glasses askew. She sighed, straightening them. "And now you're back to obnoxious."

Lance only laughed.

The sound was echoed by the boy still holding tight to Pidge's hand and she glanced down at him, pulling him into a tight hug, his head just reaching her chest. "I should have done that the first time," she murmured. " _Gracias,_ Lance."

And just like last time they could feel the warmth of words descend. _Friend_ the feeling said. _Protect._

The memories flew by then, shots of Pidge working on various tech both at the Garrison and the castle, sneaking the mice bits of food when she thought no one had seen, whipping her bayard around with stunning precision and dispatching two sentries in a hit and then whirling back to the Galra computer she was hacking, leaning against what had to be Lance during one of their rare movie nights, head sleepily tilted against his shoulder and his arm tight about her. The feelings came too.

 _Genius. Brave. Determined. Kind._ And to Pidge's deep surprise, over the scene of them on the couch, _Sister._

"Sister?" she repeated, voice choked. She glanced down at the small boy who was leaning against her now, her hands captured in his own and over his shoulders. "You think of me as your-"

 _Bothersome._

Pidge flinched even though she knew she should have been expecting it. Lance's hands tightened on her own.

 _Goofball. Incompetent. Immature._

Lance shuddered in her hold and turned to bury his face against her. Pidge shuddered too, each word feeling like an icicle digging into her heart.

 _Lazy. Keeping her from important things. Just a joke to her. Never serious. She thinks I don't care about anything._

"Hey," Pidge shook the small boy by his shoulders. "That is not _true._ Well, I mean…" she faltered. She supposed in a way most of it was. She snapped at him when he interrupted her while she was working or tried to get her to go to sleep. She pushed him away most of the time when he was trying to literally hang off of her in play, yelled at him for not taking missions seriously.

But…

"I stayed because of _you,"_ she whispered, bending down and pulling Lance back so she could look directly into the tear-filled ocean eyes. "Remember? Wh-when I tried to leave? To look for my family? You got hurt and… and I was so scared I was going to lose you."

Lance sniffled and Pidge plowed on. "You _are_ my family, Lance. You remind me so, so much of Matt. He's," her throat got tight, "He's funny and a complete dork. He'd also do _anything_ to protect me and take care of me. And guess what? I get annoyed and frustrated with him too. But I love him no matter what. And you… you…" she bowed her head. "You're just like him, Lance. You're my… my big brother too. And I'm sorry that I hurt you."

Lance stared at her for a moment before he lunged forward, arms wrapping about her neck, with a sob. He clung to her and she reached out and went to hug him, only to find her arms wrapping about warm air.

Pidge blinked as the world went back to white and she gazed past where Lance was to find the three males looking at her, faces gentle and legit tears streaming down Hunk's.

"I…" she whispered, not sure what she was trying to say. "I…" Her glasses were misting and she pulled them off, rubbing them on the hem of her shirt for something to do. Her hands trembled.

That had been…

Scary, yes, but… she was glad it had happened. She understood now why the mystic had said they could set things "more than right." She had seen Lance's soul, unhidden behind the layers of jokes and flirtations, and realized what deep down she had known all along. He was _just_ like Matt.

And he was her brother.

"You okay?" Shiro asked gently.

She straightened, putting her glasses back on. "Yeah." Her gaze narrowed. "Let's finish this."

Shiro and Hunk matched her nod and smile although Keith's lips were a thin line and he was starting to look a tinge green.

"You okay, man?" Hunk noticed as well.

And to all of their surprise, Keith shook his head. "I don't think I can do this."

"Keith," Shiro started but Keith cut him off.

"No, Shiro. I can't. I'm sorry, but I can't. I don't know what to say _._ I can't just spout words like that."

"Keith." Shiro's voice was firm and two heavy hands landed on his shoulders and Keith glanced down. "Look at me," Shiro commanded and a pair of hesitant purple eyes lifted. "It's all right to be scared. But I know _you_ will know what to say when it's your turn. Trust your instincts."

"I was scared too," Pidge told him, "but Shiro's right. You _will_ know what to do."

Keith glanced at both sets of resolute eyes and then to Hunk, who gave him a nod as well. He sighed and then inclined his head. "I'll try."

"That's all we're asking," Shiro said gently.

"And you or Shiro are up," Hunk said, feeling strangely calm, as a black rift opened near them. They'd figured out this soul system now and he felt better prepared for what was to just had to make sure the the Soul Leecher didn't get a hold of Lance, then blast it further with their own revelations about Lance, and boom, done. Two more to go and they would be out of here and Lance would be okay.

But this time there was no scream for help or a cry.

Just silence.

That… that could not be good.

As they raced forward, Keith and Shiro once more drawing their respective weapons, the feeling of _wrong_ pressed down and Hunk stumbled at the sheer malice being projected from the Soul Leecher. Malice and desperation.

And a desperate power hungry demon sounded even more dangerous than the regular kind.

Lance this go around was maybe twelve, all long limbs that he hadn't yet grown into, although the jacket didn't swamp him completely.

He was also high in the air, black tendrils covering his mouth and pinning his arms as he struggled fruitlessly to free himself. To Hunk's alarm part of his left arm appeared to be nearly transparent.

Shiro, for the third time, went straight through the bottom of the shadow but Keith's blade connected with a sharp ring.

The Soul Leecher screeched and shot out one of its tendrils at Keith, who blocked it with a graceful ease and shifted immediately into an offensive, sword slicing and stabbing as he near danced around the blackness.

With one last cut the blackness disappeared in a shrieking wail.

And Lance fell screaming from a good fifteen feet up.

"Keith, catch him!" Hunk screamed as his efforts would be in vain.

Keith dropped his sword, wincing at the clatter and dove, knowing this was not going to end well. Keith's arms did indeed miss the flailing pre-teen but his back caught up and Keith collapsed with a loud _oof,_ Lance on top of him.

"Nice catch," Pidge teased as Keith lay there, winded and ribs aching.

Lance was already sliding off, apologies and thanks all in one babbling from his lips as he knelt next to Keith. "I'm so sorry! _Lo siento!_ I didn't mean to fall on you like that. But _Dios, gracias!_ Thank you so much I thought I was-"

"Lance," Keith gasped, pulling himself painfully to his knees.

"And you have a _sword!_ That is so cool! Wow. You're like a real samurai and everything!"

"Lance," Keith cut in, voice a little firmer and the eager smile dimmed.

Hunk went to step forward but Shiro put an arm out with a stern look. "He needs to do this," Shiro said quietly. "Give him a chance."

"Are you hurt?" Keith continued and just like that Lance's smile came back on full wattage.

"I'm okay! Well, my arm…" Lance held it up and now on the ground it was clear that part of it was indeed transparent, starting from his hand and moving nearly to his shoulder. "It hurts," his voice grew smaller before he looked up, locking eyes with Keith. "Lance is running out of time. He needs you."

"I'll try to help," Keith said quietly and Lance grinned.

"I know! But first you should grab your sword. A samurai needs his sword, right?" And saying so Lance trotted over to the blade.

Keith made a slight choking sound as Lance picked it up. _No one_ touched his blade. No one.

Lance either didn't notice or didn't care as he turned it in his hands and Keith slowly, slowly relaxed as he did so with a quiet reverence and awe. He turned and offered it back to Keith, where it shrunk back into a knife.

Lance's eyes grew literal starbursts. "How did it _do_ that? Is it a magic sword? Are you a magic samurai?"

"It's a… magic sword," Keith decided on, knowing the real explanation wasn't important right now. "It was my mother's." And now that part he hadn't meant to say.

Lance's expression grew thoughtful and a touch sad. "Your mom sounds like she was pretty cool," he said after a moment. "And I bet she really loved you to give that to you."

"Yeah…" Keith found his throat suddenly choked.

Lance mock-scowled then. " _My_ mamá doesn't give me cool swords. She hardly trusts me with a butter knife!"

"Did she give you that jacket?" Keith nodded at the article of clothing that had been a staple in this universe.

Lance glanced down and his eyes widened. "How am I wearing this? This is Carlos' jacket!"

"Way to go, Keith," Pidge snarked although her voice was soft. "You broke the fourth wall."

"He told me he'd give it to me if I got into the Galaxy Garrison," Lance told Keith, not hearing the side conversation. "But…"

"Lance is in trouble?" Keith interjected before they could go too of topic. For as they'd been speaking Lance's shoulder had begun to fade out too.

This version of Lance sobered. "Yeah. But you said you can help him, right? Hurry," he reached out and grabbed hold of Keith's wrist. "This way." And with more strength than his thin frame suggested he pulled Keith forward and into the gray smoke.

They were back at the Garrison, poised on the bridge above the flight simulators and looking down. There was a growing crowd at the railing but from Lance's vantage they could still easily see the screen that the simulator pilot was viewing, along with the climbing high score under the name Keith Kogane.

"He's going to beat it," Lance's voice said, excitement making it waver. "Hunk, he's going to beat Shiro's score!"

A few seconds later there was a ding outside as the numbers climbed past the previous record holder and loud cheers went up on deck along with excited murmurs. Keith emerged from the simulator a few minutes later and the gathered students and faculty applauded. He looked at them, looked at the score, gave a small shrug, and then walked away as though he hadn't just made history.

"So… cool…" Lance whispered. A long finger pointed down at the retreating figure. "Hunk! I'm going to make him my rival!"

Standing at his side back in his soul Lance grinned up at Keith. "A samurai _and_ a pilot? You're amazing!"

The word _Rival_ then swept over them, but it was different. Keith had always heard a bitterness in the term, a desperation that had always only made him angry. But now, he heard it for what it was.

It had been Lance's way of trying to build a friendship. Lance had been trying to be _friendly._ Lance had _admired_ him. And he'd… he'd thrown it all back in his face.

Keith felt like he'd been sucker-punched.

"Whoa, you don't look good," Lance told him. "How about you sit down?" He didn't give Keith much of a choice, already folding long legs beneath himself and plopping to the floor and pulling Keith along with him. He heard Shiro give a fond chuckle but didn't dare turn around and make eye contact.

Just like with the others, various memories floated in front of them. Keith taking down sentries effortlessly with his sword, flying Red through an asteroid field as though it wasn't there. Keith coming out of his Blade of Marmora trial, exhausted but proud, sitting by himself on the observation deck and watching the stars go by, knife balanced on his knees.

 _Strong_ the feelings whispered. _Fierce. Passionate. Admiration._

Keith looked sideways at Lance, who was watching the memory of Keith cuddling with a stray space alien cat they'd found on one trip, _sweet,_ echoing across. He knew what happened next and his stomach was already rolling.

Lance thought all of those things about _him._ And Keith… He felt shame burn across his face. He had barely ever given Lance's friendship a second thought.

"Lance," he swallowed thickly and dark eyes turned his direction. "Listen to me."

 _Weak._

Lance's eyes widened with hurt. "What?" he whispered. "Listen to-"

 _Idiot. Waste of time._

"Not that!" Keith snapped, reaching forward and slapping his hands over Lance's ears.

But the words were inside too.

 _You'll never be good enough. He knows it. Why don't you? You have no talent. You're annoying. He hates you. Stop bothering him. He doesn't want to be your friend._

Lance's eyes brimmed with tears.

Keith knew he needed to say something. Anything.

But the bitterness, the cold was making him freeze.

 _Immature. Talentless. Just a cargo pilot._

A tear made its way down a dark cheek.

"Keith!" Hunk cut through the oppressive words. "Say _something!"_

"I-"

 _Just a boy from Cuba. Stupid. So stupid. You're not his rival. You never were. You can't be. You're too weak._

"I-"

Lance's other hand began to fade out too and he hiccuped out a sob of both fear and pain, curling in on himself in a way that struck far, far too close to home.

"Stop it!" Keith screamed. "Stop!"

The darkness did not lift but the words paused. Keith frantically tried to figure out what to say because a lot of that?

A lot of it was true. Most of it.

Or, well, it _had_ been.

"Lance," he drew the boy's face back up, shifting his hands to cup his cheeks. "That's not true. Not anymore."

"Anymore?" Lance whispered.

"I was an idiot," Keith said, tongue feeling thick. "Okay? You were trying to be my friend and I… I did a terrible job at being one back. That's on me. Not you. And you're not weak. You're an amazing sharpshooter. And you're funny and kind and care about everything, sometimes too much. You're not a cargo pilot, you're the pilot of the Blue Lion. And… and…" Keith swallowed. "And I want to be your friend. And have bonding moments. And… and I'm _sorry_ I was such a jerk. I'm sorry if still am one. I'll try to be better. I promise."

"Promise?" Lance asked, voice small.

"Promise."

A smile pulled up Lance's face… and then he was gone.

Keith's hands fell to his sides, staring at where the young teen had once been. He heard more than saw Shiro crouch down next to him and Hunk and Pidge come to his other side.

"You okay, buddy?" Shiro asked gently. Keith managed a numb nod. "Good. I'm proud of you. I know that was hard."

"Yeah," Keith mumbled.

"Uh, guys, it's back," Pidge said, the darkness appearing once more.

"Hurry," Shiro said, rising ot his feet and offering Keith a hand up. "We're running out of time."

"Let me go!" Lance's shrill cry sounded and Shiro forced himself to somehow run faster than he had been, although no matter how hard he tried he couldn't seem to get closer. Around them the white was giving way to gray as though the Soul Leecher was realizing it too was running out of time.

"Lance!" Shiro screamed as they finally came upon the scene. "Lance!"

He was older again, around fifteen perhaps, and caught up once more in the shadow's writhing form, although it was grasping both his arms while Lance braced his feet but he was losing ground.

His entire chest was nearly transparent now, the jacket a shade of its former color. He was fading and he was fading fast.

At the sound of his name Lance looked up, pupils shrunk with fear as they landed on Shiro. "Help!" he pleaded, being dragged forward another foot and the darkness swam around his waist. "Please!"

Shiro plowed into the tendrils wrapped about Lance's arms, slicing through them with a fury he had not felt in a long, long time. Lance screamed too and Shiro realized a tick later that the shadows had merged _into_ Lance's arms.

He gritted his teeth, said a silent apology, and cut through them again. The Soul Leecher and Lance both screamed again but this time the tendrils released their hold and Lance stumbled backwards, clutching near invisible arms to himself.

The shadow did not disappear though, swirling angrily across from them. For the moment though it seemed to be being held at bay and Shiro took that pause for all it was worth, pulling Lance tight into his arms in a desperate hug before gripping his shoulders, still tangible despite their appearance and meeting Lance's eyes.

"I'm here to help Lance," he said urgently. "Show me how."

And despite the obvious pain this Lance was in he smiled and there was such trust there that Shiro's breath caught.

"Like this," Lance said, and he moved one of his own hands atop Shiro's, moving to intertwine their fingers. He held their conjoined hands between them.

And then rammed it into his chest where his heart should be.

They were thrown head over heels into a memory and based on the sudden yells Shiro could ascertain the others had come with too. They were in Keith's house, Shiro realized, the morning after they'd rescued him, with Hunk poking around inside the fridge and Pidge sitting on the floor, computer propped on her legs.

The front door opened and Shiro saw himself and Keith walk in and based on the sudden change in elevation Lance had stood up. Keith stalked over to the large bulletin board, noted in Lance's peripheral, but Shiro walked over to Lance and smiled, turning his head to encompass both Pidge and Hunk who had looked up at his entrance.

"I should thank you all for getting me out," Shiro said. His gaze refocused directly on the boy in front of him. "Lance, right?"

Lance had a sharp inhale that Shiro had missed upon this meeting as Shiro held out his hand. There was a waver in Lance's field of vision before he reached his own out and tightly grasped Shiro's. None could miss the resulting feeling of _admiration and_ _awe_ that swept through them.

 _Hero_ came a second later, followed by rapid-fire images of a younger Shiro, lacking the white hair and scar, besting records and being broadcasted as a prodigy and ace pilot.

The theme of _Hero_ continued to burn brightly with every quick scene they passed through. Shiro fighting the Galra, piloting the Black Lion, standing in front of the gathered Paladins and issuing orders. There were flickers too of _Brave. Strong. Amazing. Selfless. Gentle. Idol._ Even the quick scene of Shiro giving Lance a boost during a training exercise to get over a wall was met with the same feelings of awe and hero-worship.

Shiro felt himself blushing. He'd known Lance admired him but he was finding that literally admired _everything_ about him. He sobered though as he glanced at the teenage Lance he'd clutched to his side as though that could keep him from fading away. That was a pedestal he did not deserve nor did he want it.

"Lance," he murmured, "You know I'm not perfect, right?"

"To him you are," Lance whispered back. "He wants to be just like you."

Shiro wasn't sure what to say to that, but he didn't have to, for the room was darkening again and Lance cried out in pain as the word of _Inadequate_ filled the space with a sudden chill.

"That is not true!" Shiro scowled back. Every member of Team Voltron had special talents and strengths. Lance may not be the best pilot or fighter but he had the most heart and compassion. _Those_ were still strengths.

 _A joke. He pities you. He knows you're the spare. The weak link._

Lance let out a whimper and the darkness swirled down his legs.

"Lance! Stop it!"

 _He's embarrassed by your antics. He wants you to grow up._

"I am not!" Shiro yelled. "Lance, listen to me! All of this? It's not _true."_

But the darkness was striking hard and fast, sensing the end.

 _You're the weak link. Admit it. Quit. You know he wants you to. He wishes Allura was the Blue Paladin. You don't deserve it. You're just a child playing pretend._

"That is _enough!"_ Shiro roared, lashing out a glowing arm at the darkness that had closed in. Both it and Lance screamed as it connected.

Shiro deactivated his arm and pulled Lance fully into his arms, pressing his face into the dark hair. "Listen to me," he said quietly, urgently. "You are none of those things, Lance. _I_ don't think any of those things. You are the Blue Paladin. You are strong and capable and compassionate and kind and I don't want you to change. You don't need to. You are amazing, Lance. And you…" He pulled his arms even tighter about the slender form. "You are a hero, Lance. And heroes never give up. So don't give up on us, okay? Fight this. Come back to us."

He heard Lance give a small sigh, somehow audible over the lashing winds and screeching darkness.

And then he disappeared.

"Lance!" Shiro screamed, his cry being echoed by the others as the Soul Leecher reared up, immense and practically drowning them with despair.

They'd failed, Shiro realized numbly as the Soul Leecher shrieked out a victory cry. They'd lost Lance. They hadn't gotten through to him in time. His soul was… was…

A burst of blinding blue light, nearly white in its intensity, shot down from the heavens and collided directly with the darkness. It screamed, this time in pain.

The light struck it again and again, each hit sending tendrils of black hissing and vanishing. Shiro choked in a breath after he realized he was holding his. He found his flesh hand being squeezed by Pidge, her own eyes wide with hope, and her other hand being held by Hunk, who was then holding Keith about the shoulders.

With one last wail the blackness scattered in the radiance of light, turning the gray walls back to shining white. The beam of light descended and inside of it they could make out a standing figure.

Hunk let out a sob as the last of the light faded away to reveal Lance, all seventeen years, standing there with the softest expression on his face as he looked out at them.

"Lance!" Hunk wasted no time, charging forward and dragging everyone else right along with him. He released Pidge and Keith as he reached his best friend so he could throw his arms about him, lifting him completely off his feet.

Lance couldn't even get a word out before Pidge was throwing her arms around his waist and Shiro was holding both him and Pidge. Keith hesitated for a second longer but Lance looked out past Hunk's head and inclined his own ever so.

And with a tentative smile Keith joined the circle around Lance and Shiro's prosthetic pulled him in even closer.

" _Gracias_ ," Lance whispered. "You saved me. And I'm… I'm sorry for-"

"Lance, no," Shiro interrupted gently. "You have nothing to apologize for. We're just glad you're all right." He felt Lance fully relax then and only hugged him tighter for it.

"Then I think," Lance said quietly, "We should all go home."

"Yes," Pidge murmured. "Let's go _home."_

The white and blue light from before flared, spreading out from Lance and encompassing all of them. It was the same warmth as his words from before, filling them with a sense of sheer love and happiness.

A tick later they found themselves kneeling on the ground around Lance, who was blinking his eyes slowly open.

"Welcome back, Paladins of Voltron," the mystic said, startling them. She chuckled at the reaction. "I had faith you would secure Paladin Lance's soul. You are indeed a team with much heart."

"No," Lance quietly disagreed with a shake of his head as Hunk helped him to sit up.

The mystic quirked her lips. "No?"

"We're a family," Lance murmured. He looked around at the gathered group, and saw only the same feelings in his own heart reflected back.

"A family," Pidge repeated decisively.

"A family," Shiro smiled, squeezing Lance's knee and Pidge's hand.

"A family," Hunk grinned, tears of happiness filling his eyes.

They all looked at Keith to complete their circle. A pause as Keith glanced at them all before his gaze locked with Lance, who gave him an encouraging smile. He took a breath and quietly said, "The best family I've ever had."

"Indeed," the mystic murmured, all three of her eyes widening and then softening. "A family with a truly beautiful heart."

And, she thought with a quiet awe as she watched the Paladins climb to their feet and embrace one another with smiles and laughter and a purity she had rarely witnessed, in all her ancient years there had never been truer words spoken.

A family with heart indeed.

xxx

 **Author's Notes:**

Well this took a bit of a different turn than I had planned upon but I absolutely adore it. This was a commission for the lovely kayleeschuyler with a bit of a tag-team prompt involving Lance being in some type of coma/unconscious scenario and the Paladins having to go into his mind (cough, soul now) where they learn about Lance''s feelings for them and how the team sees him.

I actually had the idea for a little child spirit guide Lance originally in _Color_ (and quite a few _Color_ refs in here, hehe) to lead the team through the mindscape, but scrapped it for a very different, more raw route. It was so exciting to get to bring that back and we got both little baby Lance and kid Lance and gosh, he's so damn adorable. I can't get enough. Thank you for the commission kayleeschuyler and I really hope you love it as much as I do!

Please leave a comment below if you too enjoyed it. I would really appreciate it. Plus it's an easy way to make an author feel loved so they keep writing and you can keep reading. Please show your author love for their hard work and time. Thank you!


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